


Beach Holiday

by Lene3161



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Q, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Multi, Sex on a Beach, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-11-28 14:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18209816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lene3161/pseuds/Lene3161
Summary: James Bond and Alec Trevelyan, MI6's best honeypots, were sent to seduce a hacker into divulging information important to England. Unfortunately, they met their match and they failed their mission objective. They never expected to fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

Q was sunbathing nude, eyes closed, the towel behind his back preventing the white sand getting in unsavoury places, when he felt a shadow loom over him and block the sun. Smiling, he opened his eyes and saw a naked ‘Richard’ grinning at him. His blue eyes, as blue as the sea around them, sparkled mischievously. That was the only warning Q got before Richard flopped over him and started tickling him mercilessly.

 

Q laughed and squirmed, and pushed him away with a light kick that caught Richard in the thigh. He had a feeling Richard moved away of his own accord, but didn’t mention it. He sat up and poked Richard’s chest.

 

”Really, Richard? I was relaxing and you started bothering me! Can’t a man sunbathe in peace here?” 

 

Q felt thick, brawny arms wrap around him from behind. 

 

“Not when you left us alone in bed, kotenok,” ‘Mikhail’ rumbled in his Russian accent. Q could feel the vibrations in the broad chest pressed against his back. “Especially not with you looking so delectable.” Mikhail’s hand slipped to Q’s crotch.

 

Q gasped and wriggled out of Mikhail’s arms. Scowling playfully, he smacked Mikhail's bicep. He noticed that Mikhail was half-hard already.

 

"Again? You two really are insatiable, aren't you? I'd never have thought middle-aged men can be as greedy as you are. And besides, I didn't leave you alone-you had each other." 

 

The crows' feet and scar around Mikhail's jade green eyes deepened as he smiled. His dark blond hair glinted in the morning sun. "It's not the same without you, milyy," he kissed Q's nose.

 

Q heard Richard coming closer. He started nuzzling at the love bites decorating Q's neck and shoulders, before biting down on a previously-marked spot, deepening the bite mark. Q shuddered, and his hands scrabbled at Richard's short straw blond hair and prominent ears. Mikhail reached out and pinched Q's nipple.

 

"Mm - enough," Q panted. "We're doing this inside. Ooh!" he moaned when Richard pushed a callused finger into his hole, still loose from last night's rounds. 

 

"If you're worried about getting sand everywhere, don't worry, Mikhail's going to lie down over the towel  _and_ under you. Just lay back and enjoy." Richard breathed hotly into Q's ear.

 

"Why am  _I_ the one who acts as a second towel?  _You_ do that." Mikhail replied.

 

Q laughed. He tugged Richard down and sprawled over him, kissing his bristly jaw. Mikhail let out a pleased rumble before his hands spread Q's cheeks apart. 

 

Q looked back and said, "Don't get in me, just rub against me. We haven't got any lube."

 

"Of course I won't, kotenok. What kind of man do you take me for? I don't hurt my partners - unless they ask for it." Mikhail's hands gripped Q's hips, where he had left hand-shaped bruises there last night and started grinding his cock between Q's cheeks. 

 

Mikhail started kissing his neck. Richard stroked both his and Q's cock simultaneously. Q wrapped an arm around and buried his face in Richard's neck, moaning loudly. He reached down and pulled Richard's hand away from their cocks, before he sheathed Richard's cock in his hand and gestured to Richard to do the same to his using a tilt of his head. Richard obeyed and they were soon rubbing at each other with perfect rhythm as Mikhail ground against Q. Richard saw his chance and tugged at Q's hair. Q grunted; he had a weakness for hands in his hair, whether it be a massage or rough pulling. Mikhail sucked a bruise on his bottom cervical vertebrae. After a few minutes, Q let out a mewl and came. He bit Richard's shoulder as he thrusted into his hand.

 

Richard grabbed Q's hand, which had faltered in its pace thanks to his orgasm, and rubbed himself off. He came, shuddering and burying his face in Q's hair. Mikhail snarled and increased his speed. With a cry, he spilled over Q's small, but perfectly round cheeks. All three men laid panting in the late morning sun.

 

Richard caught his breath first. He gently pushed his partners away before he used the towel to clean himself up, before wiping Q and Mikhail down. Q laid meekly against Mikhail, not ready yet to do anything. Without warning, Mikhail picked him up bridal-style before he made his way back to the small cottage on the private island in the Mediterranian that belonged to Q. Q squawked and elbowed him, protesting at suddenly being lifted up. Richard laughed, following Mikhail's broad frame and Q's slender legs dangling to the side.

 

 

~JAQ~

 

They were all lying naked in bed and watching telly. Richard and Q(after wearing his glasses that he had left on his bedside table) had cooked bacon and hash-browns, and Mikhail munched on cereal as he waited for breakfast to be ready. He whined endlessly about not being trusted to cook, but Richard neatly countered by reminding him of all the times he set fire to his various flats. Mikhail conceded sullenly and seemed to eat more bacon than usual out of spite. Q had kissed his pout away with a laugh. Now they were lazing and enjoying each other's company, not really caring what was on the telly.

 

Q stretched before getting out of bed. He went to his suitcase which was near the doorframe and started putting on trousers and a button-up shirt. Frowning, Richard was just about to ask him to come back to bed when he turned to them sharply and said "James, Alec."

 

They stiffened. James sat up but was stopped from doing anything else by Q pointing a gun at him.

 

"You two be good boys and stay there," Q smiled at them charmingly. "It was very nice of MI6 to send you two to spend my holiday with me. Unfortunately, I made you since the first moment I saw you. Your cybersecurity is truly lacking."

 

Alec growled and got out of bed. 

 

"Put that gun down, kotenok. Just tell us what we need to know and we'll leave you alone." 

 

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific." Alec's eyes narrowed at Q's cheeky tone. His hands twitched with the need to throw the boy over his knees and turn his arse red.

 

"Why are you leaking everyone's secrets? Who's your next target?" James scowled at Q.

 

"My reasons are mine to tell, not yours nor MI6's." It was James' turn to glare. His mind drifted to an image of Q with his hands chained behind his back and being slowly strangled, before he pushed the thought away.

 

"They're not, kotenok." Alec stepped closer to Q. "I'll say this one more time -  _put that gun down_ , and we'll let you live. You know we can overpower you easily, milyy."

 

Q smiled, before he pressed his palm to the wall near the doorway. Cattle prods shot out from behind James and Alec and electrocuted them. As they laid there wheezing and gasping, Q picked up his suitcase.

 

"I have to go. Goodbye. Tell M I'm only going to leak the secrets of those who deserved it. And it doesn't include her or anything that might compromise MI6, so you needn't worry." 

 

Q backed out of the room, suitcase in hand, before locking the agents in. He opened a secret panel located on the right of the door handle, revealing a keypad. He pressed '709' and the windows of his room was instantly covered by metal shutters. Only his palm and finger prints could open the door and panel; and he had made sure his bedroom was well-barricaded and wouldn't be destroyed. The mini-fridge had supplies that should last the agents a day or so. Q felt bad for imprisoning them, especially considering what hellish memories he could possibly dredge up, but it was necessary. Q called a number saved as 'Twat W Heli' and told him that he was cashing in on the favour he owed him and to please send a chopper to his location.

 

A half-hour later Oliver Brooke's chopper hovered over his island. The chopper landed and a man walked out to help Q with his suitcase. Q refused before he climbed up and made himself comfortable next to Oliver. Adrian, judging by the name-tag the man who tried to help him had pinned to his shirt, squeezed in because his bulky frame made it a tight fit.

 

"We're even now, Q," Oliver growled out. 

 

"You're right. I won't tell your wife about your gambling debts. I'll send the evidence I destroyed the proof tomorrow."

 

"Good. After this, don't contact me at all, you hear me?" He grunted. His tan face, a result of the Mediterranean sun, was dripping with nervous sweat. He pushed back his black fringe, his fine features twisted into a scowl.

 

"You won't hear from me ever again. Just get me out, and we'll be perfect strangers." Q looked out the window before he fished out his phone from where he'd put it in his back-pocket, fiddled with it a while before he sent a distress signal to MI6. He entered something into his phone before his cottage blew up.

 

Oliver and Adrian goggled. Q shrugged and said "It was necessary, or MI6 will steal my designs for the cottage." He didn't mention that the agents still in his bedroom would be safe. 

 

"Do you kill all your lovers?" Oliver looked as though he wanted to throw himself into the sea when he realised what he said. He grimaced before turning his face away from Q, but not without his eyes lingering on the marks on Q's neck. Q could guess his thoughts:  _Fresh, so it means he has at least one person in there, and he blew them up. Good God._

 

Q only smiled in response. It seemed to freak Oliver and Adrian more, and the ride to the airport was silent.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_"Bond, Trevelyan, how good of you to come exactly one hour late. Sober, too. What a rare occurrence." M growled out as her two most troublesome agents strolled into her office like they owned it._

 

_"Mark it in your calendar, ma'am. It won't happen again." Alec grinned as his boss glared at him. James snorted and sprawled uninvited on one of the visitor chairs. Alec did the same and hooked a leg around one of James's._

 

_"Were it not for this mission, I'd have had you both doing paperwork in your office." M bit out with an expression that belonged on a soldier facing field surgery without anaesthesia. "Unfortunately, the target requires your particular brand of...appeal." She tossed a thick folder on her desk._

 

_James picked up the folder with raised brows. It was almost as thick as his and Alec's combined. He opened the cover and saw a delicate-looking male youth staring up at him mischievously. He flicked through the papers, Alec reading over his shoulder, the both of them growing impressed at the accomplishments listed. To his surprise, James saw the boy was behind the recent flood of politicians' secrets being revealed. The leaks counted several prominent English politicians involved among them.  James paused at a report that declared a honeypot mission to confirm his hacker handle and then recruiting him into Q-Branch a mixed success. He recognised the agent assigned; he was one of the best non-00 honeypots. It seemed the boy had his way with the agent before revealing his hacker handle, upon which he sedated the agent. He left a note taped to the agent's chest saying 'I know MI6 would figure out Anatole Forrest and Plague is the same person from the way I code. I promise I won't bother you as long as you won't bother me. Goodbye.' There was a list of sexual partners, all male, which filled the second-last four pages of the report. The last five were observations on the boy's favoured features, which noted him to be attracted to mostly broad-shouldered and solid men, preferably older than him. A particular sentence in the last paragraph caught his eye._

 

_"Observed to have participated in four threesomes. Our target is very adventurous, isn't he?" James said in amusement._

 

_"So we have to spend a night with him?" Alec said eagerly. "This is hardly a mission, ma'am. This is practically a vacation."_

 

_M smirked, which clued Alec in to the fact there was something more going on._

 

_"Forrest will be spending two weeks on his private island in the Mediterranean next month. Your mission, effective immediately, is to get close enough to him within the month for you two to be invited along. Find out the reason why he suddenly started airing people's dirty laundry, and get a list of his next targets using any means possible. His file has his routine and favourite places. Use the information to its fullest potential. Meet up with Major Boothroyd for your equipment and cover identity. Dismissed."_

 

 _"Understood, ma'am,"_   _Alec said. He and James walked out of her office and went to see the Major._

 

 

 

_"006, 007! I was just waiting for you. I have your equipment here," the Major picked up a box from his messy desk. They saw the box was lined with foam when the Major opened it. There was a decorated silver tie clip, a watch, and a thin flat radio the size of two fingers._

 

_"That's it?" James asked in disbelief._

 

_"Yes. I've been ordered by M to give you two minimum equipment because your mission is a 'discreet data-gathering endeavour', and to reduce the chance of Forrest figuring out you're spies," the Major replied with a sour look on his face._

 

_"So how do they work?" Alec said._

 

_"The radio sends a distress signal. The tie clip is a mini voice recorder that can record about three hours of audio, while the watch has a needle with a sedative." The Major picked up the tie clip and pointed to a small spot. "This is the microphone."_

 

_The tie clip had a horizontal line of swarovski crystals across it, while the metal had engraved black lines that separated it into three parts. The lines intersected with the crystals, and the Major was pointing at the line in the middle. If the Major hadn't pointed it out, James and Alec would have never seen the microphone._

 

_"You activate it by pressing this little button here," the Major tapped the crystal at the beginning of the row, near the hinged side of the tie._

 

_The Major put the clip back before taking out the watch. He pressed the upper pusher and a wicked little needle shot out the other side. Alec whistled at the display._

 

_"The needle is coated in a sedative that knocks the target out for about six hours. Another press of the pusher retracts the needle, like so." The Major demonstrated. He gave the watch and radio to Alec, then he gave the tie clip to James. He dug out papers and two wallets from under a tottering stack of binders._

 

_"Here is your cover, and the wallet already has identity cards and other things under your aliases. You're both Universal Exports businessmen, as usual - mad stroke of genius from the last M; making a shell company as a disguise for MI6 activity." He shoved the whole to Alec, clearly not caring about the possibility of the papers creasing. The Major never did care much for things outside tinkering and inventing._

 

_"Good luck on the mission, agents," the Major said. "Let's hope you won't have cause to use more than your current tools."_

 

 

* * *

 

 

James felt the walls and floor rattle from the blast. He instinctively threw himself under the bed. He felt Alec wedge in beside him, their broad frames making it a tight fit. After what felt like hours but James knew to be only seconds, the walls went back into their customary stationary state and Alec poked his head out.

 

Deeming it safe, he crawled out from under the bed and pulled his wet t-shirt off. Both of them had gotten dressed a few minutes after recovering from Q's electrocution, and Alec had taken a can of coke from the room's mini-fridge. He accidentally spilled some of the beverage on himself when he dived for shelter.  James took a moment to appreciate the play of muscles on his partner's back before he went back to business. 

 

"Q's set off some sort of bomb. We need to get out of here." James said, walking up to the door.

 

"Really now? I thought we should be sitting on the bed watching telly and drinking tea!" Alec growled in reply. He kicked the empty coke can in frustration. "We've tried everything to get out,  _piz-dets_!" 

 

Frustrated, James was just about to snap a sharp retort when he saw Alec's face. Alec was pale, his pupils were dilated, and he was sweating buckets. His eyes flicked between the shuttered windows and the door, his posture hunched over like he was expecting a blow. All of James' acerbic replies died on his lips.

 

James approached Alec slowly, as careful as a man trying to fit broken pieces of a vase together. He raised his hand, and Alec flinched. James let out soft, soothing noises, laying his hand on Alec's bare shoulder.

 

"It's only temporary, Alec," he murmured. "You'll see. We already activated the radio, remember? MI6 will come for us soon, don't worry." He should have guessed that their current situation would trigger Alec's trauma of being trapped under rubble and getting burns.

 

Alec swallowed and straightened. He was still pale, but his pupils had returned to a more normal size. He licked his dry lips and said "The next time I see that brat, I'm going to spank him so hard he'll bruise."

 

James let out a little huff of a laugh and said  "Get in line, Alec - I want to tie him up and do bad, bad things to him."

 

"Back off, James. I deserve to be the first to get my hands on him next time we meet." Alec replied. His breathing was slowing down. He was still breathing faster than normal, but he was no longer near-hyperventilating.

 

"Why are you so sure we'll see him again?" 

 

"Because he's just as mad about us as we are about him." 

 

James' brows rose. Alec rolled his eyes at James' incredulous expression and said "Come off it, James. You and I both know you've fallen for him by the second week we knew him. Honestly, I should have guessed - you're a secret romantic, after all."

 

"At least I'm not the only one," James replied wryly. "When did _you_ get attached to him? And I don't think he wants us as much as we want him." 

 

"By the first week we spent on the island. Oh, don't give me that look, you  _svo-lach',"_ Alec cuffed James' ear playfully when he smirked, "I resisted him longer than you. That counts for something. And did you get hit on the head when you dove under the bed? Have you seen the way Q looks at us?" 

 

"I have. And we both know he's colder than he looks, Alec. He could decide to cut his losses and never see us again."

 

"Vesper's really done a number on you, hasn't she?"

 

James' shoulders tensed. "Yes, she did." There was no point denying the fiasco three years ago.

 

"No wonder  _I_ was the one who had to chase  _you._ James Bond, the shy wallflower hesitating at someone's advances. I wonder how many people would pay to see that." Alec quipped, trying to defuse the tension.

 

Despite his best effort, James snorted. "Probably half the globe, Alec," he murmured. "My old headmaster at Eton would be overjoyed - I was never at all shy with the maids."

 

Alec laughed. He took a step closer to James, and both men stood there savouring their closeness. James started nuzzling at Alec's ear, breathing in his scent. Alec pulled James up into a kiss, and the two men were soon snogging. Alec shoved James down on the bed and started to take his shorts and underwear off. He leaned in, nuzzling James' cock. Alec was just about to take James in his mouth when they heard the sound of a chopper.

 

Groaning at being interrupted, James pulled his shorts and pants back up and rolled out of bed. Alec marched to the door and started hollering and making an awful racket by banging on the door to make sure their rescuers heard them. Footsteps sounded from outside the door, and someone said "007, 006! Do you copy?"

 

"Roger that!" Alec shouted. "Get us out of here!"

 

"Your target has messaged us instructions on how to get you out. You need to go to the upper right corner of the room and climb up to reach the ceiling - the wainscoting on the right-hand side is false and there is a keypad behind it. You need to enter 6078 and the door will be unlocked."

 

James and Alec went to the aforementioned corner and started examining the ceiling. They had noticed a crack on the wainscoting the first time they went to Q's bed, but they had dismissed it as cosmetic damage due to the building's age. Q had mentioned that the island and cottage had been in his family for the last four generations. 

 

"James, help me push the dresser here," Alec said. James grabbed the ugly porcelain vase and kitschy lace doily that had once been put on the dresser beside the bed and took great pleasure in tossing them to the floor. The vase shattered, but neither men cared despite their bare feet. They heaved their improvised stepping stone into position and Alec climbed on top of it, with James steadying the dresser from movement. He reached his fingers into the crack and yanked the false panel off, barely missing James' head as it landed. Alec viciously pressed the required keypads and the door was unlocked.

 

Their five armoured rescuers flung the door of their prison open and barged in, guns drawn. James helped Alec down, and said "Took you long enough" to the frontmost agent. He recognized the man; he was George Moore, one of the most competent non-00 agents. Word had it he would be promoted to 00-status as soon as one of the agents kicked the bucket. 

 

"We needed to fly from Lisbon to get here, 007. Are you both alright?" Moore said. Alec shouldered past him and the rest of the group to get outside. James watched him exhale and lean on the cottage wall, savouring the freedom from the locked room, before he responded.

 

"Yes. You said Q messaged you?" James asked.

 

"He hacked MI6 and replaced M's computer display with a picture of the instructions." The younger agent paused, his lips twitching. "He used glittery pink Comic Sans font on a background of you and 006 in an...intimate moment on the beach." Two of the rescue squad tittered.

 

"Were we naked?" James asked bluntly, feeling a grin appear on his lips. He knew exactly which moment Q took a picture of. He and Alec only shagged once on the beach, and twice indoors.

 

"No, no. You were in your swimming kit, embracing each other. Alec had his hand down the back of your trunks, however."

 

"That's a pity. I would have loved to see M's reaction to seeing us like that." James could care less about being seen naked; he and Alec had long since lost any body modesty, and often left the coms on while on honeypot missions. The thought of M seeing them mid-coitus was too damn funny.

 

Moore coughed. "I suggest you don't mention it in front of her, 007. She was enraged at the failure of the mission."

 

"Not our problem." Alec's suddenly appeared beside the group of armed agents. One of them started, but the rest controlled their reactions. "He said our cybersecurity is lacking. He must have hacked MI6 and found out about the mission. Blame Q-Branch."

 

"The Major will be disappointed. Have you two collected your things?" Moore said. James pointed at the two half-unzipped suitcases in the corner. They had never bothered to unpack, opening their suitcases to take out clothes and placing plastic bags filled with laundry in to take back home, and it was now benefitting them.

 

"Excellent. Let's go back to the choppers, then. The clean-up crew would salvage anything useful left behind. And please put a shirt on, 006 - you wouldn't want to be distracting the other agents, would you?" Moore addressed Alec, who was winking at the staring agents. The greenest agent, the one who jerked when Alec snuck up on them, turned his back on Alec with an awkward cough. Snorting, James picked up the suitcases and went to one of the waiting choppers, his bare feet sinking into the sand. Q, Alec, and him had left their footwear on shoe rack near the cottage's front door. They would undoubtedly be ashes by now. He let the agent left behind in one of the passenger seats of their chosen aircraft to watch over the pilot and transport help him load the luggage. Alec walked up beside James and said "What do you think of terrorising Q-Branch when we get back?"

 

"That's the best thing I heard all day," James replied, getting into their ride home. A still-shirtless Alec climbed in beside him.

 

"Even better than my moans earlier?" Alec said with a grin.

 

The agent sitting beside them coughed to disguise her giggle. James saw the pilot's reflection on the glass of the cockpit smile before he turned the chopper on.

 

"Yes."

 

Alec let out a theatrical gasp. "You are a cruel, cruel partner, James! I should run away with the greenhorn who was ogling me."

 

James laughed, slinging his arm around Alec. The mission was a total bust, Q was on the run, but with Alec by his side he could conquer everything in their way.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a name generator for all the places mentioned because I'm too lazy to research places in the London. Any resemblance to RL places are a lucky coincidence. 
> 
> I got inspired by A Very English Scandal for a bit of Q's backstory. No offense to any RL people or the Liberal party - I just copied off Jeremy Thorpe's wikipedia page. I changed the name but kept the initials.
> 
> Got Q's drink from here: https://thepridela.com/2017/06/colorful-cocktails-every-stage-pride/  
> One day, I'm going to drink it at Pride. One day. 
> 
> I'm shit at flirting. I have no idea if I wrote it properly. Please tell me if I didn't.
> 
> cuchka derganaya-crazy bitch
> 
> EDIT: I somehow forgot the Aston Martin doesn't have a backseat. I changed it to an MI6-issued Maserati GranTurismo

_The file said Forrest eats brunch every weekend day in a teahouse called the Tea Time Tearoom, of all things. It had a warm, cosy atmosphere with its cheerful mint green wallpaper, white chairs with matching upholstery, pristine lace-edged tablecloths that was somehow the perfect length to be useful and not at all fussy and china-laden Welsh cabinets with beautiful carved designs. Alec thought the tearoom looked almost made for Forrest when he flicked through the surveillance pictures._

 

 _The staff knew him by name and knew his orders by heart: a fry up but with no beans and tomatoes, hash browns instead of toast, chipolata sausages, and a poached egg to lighten the grease; or eggs Benedict with extra bacon. Crepes would be ordered if he had the latter. But whatever his order was, he had it with Earl Grey tea, and he always brought home something sweet for his own consumption. His most popular choice was the tearoom's macarons, with their chocolate cake a close second. He shopped at a small grocery store called the Lucky Star. He only cooked on weekdays, and most of it was simple dishes, so he always bought largely the same things. He had his tea delivered from a high-end store._   _Forrest didn't buy much clothing, but what he did buy were high-quality and colourful. Alec thought the loud clothes suited him while James declared him an eyesore. He had a markedly different opinion on Forrest's club wear, though - to be fair, the translucent or silk shirts he wore without his customary undershirts and tight trousers made him look bloody gorgeous._

 

 _Forrest worked from home, his skills allowing him to work remotely for clients. On weekdays, Forrest woke up at seven, exercised until eight, and started work at ten. He had a lunch break from one to two, and he continued working until five if he didn't get sidetracked by a flash of inspiration for his own personal projects. If that was the case, he could continue working on it until he stopped from exhaustion, which happened around midnight. He sometimes ended up having to pull all-nighters to finish the job he was paid for. Such was the curse of creativity, Alec supposed. Having so many ideas it was difficult to finish one before acting on another._ _If he didn't have any paying work, he would either work on coding new programs and apps, engineer new inventions, or hack others as Plague._

 

_Forrest goes out clubbing every second Friday or so, looking delectable all the while. He'd entice someone into bed or hook up with a few people he had a casual arrangement with. Luckily, he was going this week. Seducing him in the club would make their interest apparent from the get-go and would establish them as men Forrest could let out steam with on holiday._

 

 

 

_Alec had picked a green shirt he knew brought out his eyes and jeans. James wore his suit trousers and a blue shirt instead of his classically white shirt with the tie clip tucked into a hidden pocket. They were approaching Forrest, who was sitting at the bar with a glass of some colourful cocktail. His silk lilac shirt with the top two buttons undone and tight leather trousers left little to the imagination. James sat down on Forrest's right and ordered his usual drink; while Alec sat on his left while asking the bartender for vodka on the rocks. He saw the way Forrest's fingers, laden with three rings on each hand, twitch around his glass while his knee bent slightly as though he was ready to jump. His eyes flicked over both of them apprehensively for barely a second before he went back to sipping at his drink as if he hadn't noticed them at all, his posture loosening. Alec had to applaud his control - not many civilians could remain so outwardly calm while wondering if they were surrounded by killers there to take them out._

 

_"So, what's that you're drinking?" Alec asked with a grin. Forrest looked at him and said "A cheever," with a smile. It brought out his dimples and emphasized his wide mouth._

 

_"Never tried it before. Is it nice?" Alec continued. The bartender set his vodka down in front of him and Alec thanked him before sipping on his drink. The vodka was actually pretty decent._

 

_"Yes. Want a taste?" Forrest slid his glass over the bartop. The blue, yellow, orange and red concoction glowed luridly in the light from the bar._

 

_"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll much rather taste your lips," Alec replied with a cheeky wink. Forrest threw his head back and laughed. It exposed his pale throat, and more than one pair of hungry eyes turned to him. Alec hoped no one would come up to Forrest and charm him away from them(though he seriously doubted Forrest's taste if he chose another man over them), it might jeopardize the mission._

 

_"That's just terrible," he said with a shake of his head, but Alec knew he was smiling._

 

_"I don't know, I always seem to get the man - or the woman." Alec really hoped he wasn't a biphobe; he seemed a pretty decent target for once compared to the usual type of men he had to seduce._

 

_"Really now?" Forrest leaned in. "With lines like that? I'm not sure you're telling the truth, Mr -?"_

 

_"Mikhail Ivanov, and that's my partner Richard Sterling," Alec said, the Q-Branch-prepared aliases slipping off his tongue easy as water flowing in a river. "And you are?"_

 

_"Would you mind having the both of us tonight?" James asked. He was now sitting sideways in his seat, facing them. Alec watched Forrest's eyes widen as he realized what they wanted._

 

_"I don't," Forrest murmured. He ran his eyes over James, seeing the powerful muscles under his shirt and trousers, before he turned back to Alec. He straightened up, giving Forrest a hungry look._

  

_"I'm Anatole Forrest, but I much prefer Q. Like from the 007 movies," Forrest replied._

 

_Alec barely held in his growl at the unwelcome reminder of the damned James Bond Initiative and how he was represented by them. When Ian Fleming wrote his book based on the adventures of the 1940s 007 who had unfortunately perished a year before the novel came out, he was nearly arrested for spreading sensitive information. He kept his freedom by the skin of his teeth because the then-M chose to exploit the public's belief in the fictional nature of the books by using some of the more covert missions as film ideas. The old 007's bad habit of using his real name was brushed off as an alias by the enemy, and it became a tradition for every new 007. It even became a sort of joke for the many James Bonds of England, who started introducing themselves just like the James Bond in the books. Alec was convinced the only reason James was given the 007 position and he got 006 was because his legal name was actually James Bond._

 

_Every 00-agent had signed a contract stipulating they knew their missions could feature as the plot for a new 007 movie and wouldn't sue. When Alec had learnt the Arkhangelsk disaster where he had to stay in Medical for months due to the serious burns covering most of his body would be adapted as a story, he had been delighted. He'd dragged James to watch Goldeneye in a theatre only to leave fuming. They had a lot of angry sex that night. Alec had contemplated tracking down the director and bashing his head in, but decided against it._

 

_"That's a unique name," Alec heard James say. "It means sunrise in Greek, doesn't it?"_

 

_"Yes. Daddy was a bit obsessed with Greek classics, so he wanted to give me a Greek name. Mummy hated Anatolius, so they compromised by using the French version."_

 

_"You must have been bullied a lot as a child," Alec said. Poor kid, no wonder he became a criminal. He'd had people give him a hard time for his accent and background when he was younger, and could sympathise with Forrest._

 

_"More than you can imagine," Forrest confirmed. He pushed his glasses up a bit with his finger. "I was a huge nerd, always reading and coding; and I was the best in class. Not to mention I skipped several grades. It was bloody awful."_

 

_"You must be extraordinarily clever, then."_

 

_"Would you like to know just how much?" Forrest asked brazenly. "I can show you."_

 

_James raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Can't we buy you a drink first?"_

 

_"No. I came here to look for a good lay and I've found them - there's no need to dawdle. I can book a hotel room for tonight. Are you coming, or not?"_

 

_"Demanding little shite, aren't you?" Alec said, amused._

 

_"I only demand what my partners can give me. Can you do that?"_

 

_"Of course. Let's go and screw each others' brains out."_

 

_"Really, Mikhail? How crude," James teased._

 

_"Fine old man, let's make sweet love under the moonlight, if you want to be polite about it," Forrest snorted._

 

_Alec laughed uproariously. James scowled and said "'Old man'? I'll show you an old man," before dragging Forrest into a kiss by his shirt collar. Alec pulled out his wallet to pay their drinks and called the bartender. James stood up with a hand around Forrest's upper arm and started walking out of the club, leaving him to deal with the hard work, as usual. After paying with a generous tip, Alec exited the club and went to a car park nearby where James had stashed the MI6-issued Maserati GranTurismo to see his partner and target snogging furiously next to the car. He heard the gentle purr of the Maserati warming up as he strode over to them. Once he stood beside James, Alec said "Starting without me, are you?" James ignored him and started lavishing their target's throat with attention. James had always had a thing for that; he loved kissing and marking his partners' necks._

 

_"Your fault for taking too long," Forrest breathed out. He pulled Alec in for a kiss. It was a tight squeeze - Alec's body was against James' and his cheek brushed the top of his partner's head, but they managed. His mouth was deliciously warm, with a hint of pineapple juice from his drink. When Alec's hands squeezed his small but perfectly round backside, he let out a most delicious little moan and ground closer. Alec felt the edge of Forrest's phone in his waistband pocket, along with what must be condoms and bills._

 

_A wolf-whistle interrupted them. Alec broke off their embrace, turned around and saw a group of uni students standing in line to the club entrance. They started hollering encouragements and obscene suggestions. Forrest laughed before clambering into the backseat of the car, which made the kids cheer. One of them shouted "Get it, mate!" as James went to the driver's seat and Alec followed Forrest in._

 

_This month would be fun._

 

 

* * *

 

 

M threw down a print-out of the infamous computer display. Alec couldn't help but snicker when he saw himself under James while being thoroughly snogged by his partner. He'd grabbed a handful of James' flawless buttocks in response to a playful bite on his lip and Q had captured the moment.

 

"That disaster of a mission has the Prime Minister's knickers in a sodding twist!" M snarled. Alec and James winced in sympathy. Hacks like the one Q made would need to be reported immediately to the higher-ups, and the Prime Minister was clearly hounding M. This was going to be one unpleasant debrief.

 

"It's not a complete disaster, ma'am," Alec said. "We're alive and unharmed." Physically, anyway. He had nightmares of dying at Arkhangelsk, or James dying, or even Q himself dying thanks to Q's actions. The boy was going to be the death of him.

 

M glared at him in reply. "I never doubted that Forrest would let you live. His records show him to kill only the most depraved criminals, never spies or the like. And he told you absolutely nothing about his cause?" 

  

"No, ma'am," James answered. "When we asked him what he thought of the recent leaks, he smiled and said he'd like to give Plague a toast as some of the secrets are rather unsavoury. He wouldn't say anything else no matter how much we buttered him up."

 

"But we  _did_ get a possible clue as to the reason why," Alec chimed in when M looked ready to throw something - most likely them - at the wall in frustration. 

 

"Tell me," M commanded.

 

"He once said he was envious of our relationship, and he mentioned an ex of his he hates. When I asked him for details, he called his ex 'a stupid bastard hiding behind his government position'. He might feel jilted and took revenge by the leaks," Alec explained. He wondered what pain Q's ex caused him.

  

"Was there a government man that wasn't included in the list of Forrest's lovers?" James asked. Alec and him had already guessed the answer, but he wanted M to confirm it.

  

"He is Jonathan Thorne's former lover." M's expression was neutral, but Alec just knew the _cuchka derganaya_  was internally cackling with glee at their shock. Alec felt they were right to be shocked; it wasn't everyday you learn a party leader got his leg over your love interest.

 

"We have visual confirmation of a bouncer at one of his clubs seeing Thorne leaning out of his driver's window to kiss Forrest and giving him a costly watch before urging him into his car. The man who compiled the list of his lovers was a fan of Thorne and didn't include him. I only found out yesterday after his colleague reported it to HR. She'd been sitting on it for weeks as she is the youngest in the group and didn't want to make waves."

 

Alec growled, and James rolled his eyes. Such blatant unprofessionalism would get the man kicked out of any government agency with barely any time to blink.

 

"But Jonathan Thorne isn't a victim of the leaks," Alec said, his brows creasing together in confusion. He ignored the pang of jealousy at Thorne with difficulty. He wondered why Q hadn't made Thorne a target. Being a party leader and a likely candidate for Prime Minister in another four years, Thorne certainly fit the bill of the kind of people Q took an issue with.

 

"Why would he hack others yet leave Thorne alone?" James wondered. "Maybe he doesn't want to out Thorne? All the affairs and disturbing porn histories that's been brought to light are strictly heterosexual, except for when Keaton Lindsey spoke up and said Reverend William Jackson solicited him for sex when CCTV footage of him getting a female sex worker in his car went viral." The homophobic American preacher had been laughed at by the entire world when it was discovered he lied to his family about volunteering in soup kitchens at Wednesdays when he was actually going out to find streetwalkers.

 

"Because it wasn't _just_ Thorne jilting him," Alec said, realization dawning. "Thorne dated his wife for two years, and has been married to her for one. He's got a three-week old son now. The hacks started three months ago. The announcement of the pregnancy must have set him off."

 

Thorne had disclosed the new addition to his family at the third trimester for privacy reasons. It matched the timeline of the attacks, as two days later the leader of a prominent English political party had had records taken from his laptop of him embezzling party funds.

 

M had a contemplative look on her face. "It seems very uncharacteristic for Forrest - but it is very rare for jealousy to not make people act differently." She continued, "Did he say anything about the length of the relationship, or why they split?"

 

"No, but given that the pain seemed somewhat dull I doubt the split happened more than a year ago," James explained. "But there was an undercurrent of rage - Thorne must have hurt him deeply when they broke up, beyond the usual pain when couples split. I suspect Thorne cheated on him with the woman who would be his wife." Alec pushed down his discomfort at having Q's private feelings be exposed. The mission came first, he knew that. It would be twice as difficult for James, having to be the one to tell M.

 

"I see," M said, her lips pursed in thought. "I suspected him to be a reckless young fool drunk on the power of his abilities, given that there was nothing about Plague or Forrest doing anything that might harm the UK. But  _revenge_ \- it makes things more complicated."

 

"You have plans for him, ma'am?" Alec asked.

 

"I planned to order you two to keep contact with him and slowly seduce him into MI6 to replace Major Boothroyd. But it would be harder to convince the JIC not to shoot him down before I could implement them," M answered. She scowled at the way they tensed up. "What were you expecting? He hacked MI6 and caused chaos to the government, tarnishing our good name. If it was just lofty idealism about hypocrisy needing to be exposed, we could use it to convince him to work for us. But revenge? What if an agent does something he doesn't like and he lets the agent die in the field? What if he sabotaged the bureaucrats' paperwork because he was annoyed at them for hounding him about the budget? This is the direction the JIC's thoughts will turn to. Once you have a taste of revenge, stopping is hard."

 

"It won't come to that," James said.

 

"Somehow I doubt it," M sniffed. "Moving on - we need to find Forrest's mole."

 

"Mole?" Alec asked, sure he was hearing things. He hadn't gotten any sleep in the 24 hours of downtime he and James got before being summoned to M's office. On the bright side, he and his partner - because James stayed up with Alec, the sentimental sod - finished and submitted their mission reports ridiculously early.

 

"Yes, a mole. Do wake up, Trevelyan," M snapped. "The mission was paper-only because Forrest could hack us and run before we can get him. From the requisition of the intelligence team to the notes on Forrest to the mission forms I sent to Major Boothroyd - all of them didn't use any kind of tech, be it radio or smartphone. Even your mission equipment was in the Dark Ages of technology by various agencies' standards. The papers were all level five clearance yet your target still managed to prepare for you."

 

 "Has Q-Branch figured out who the mole is?" James asked. 

 

"Yes. It's the head of the intel division's aide, Leo Jackson. He was sent to deliver the papers to me, but he looked at them before handing it over to Villiers. He contacted Forrest using his own private computer, telling him MI6 is after him. When he heard you two seeing me for a top-secret paper-only mission a short while after he gave me the papers, he put two and two together and told Forrest in return for half a million pounds in offshore accounts. He was sloppy, however - he used his MI6-issued phone. It was a good thing you finished your reports early, when I read what he said over how he made you I knew someone talked."

 

"Q-Branch then investigated every person who held the papers, and realized Jackson was responsible. The proof was in the smashed work phone found in his desk drawer. He didn't break the memory card properly so the data was salvageable. Given that he unexpectedly quit two weeks ago, citing dissatisfaction over his pay and how his superior treated him, we concluded he had gone to ground, possibly helped by Forrest." M pulled out a file from her drawer. With a sense of deja vu, Alec flicked through it, with James being the one to look over his shoulder. It contained all the information they have on Jackson, from his family members to his shoe size. He was last seen skulking about near Heathrow Airport ten days ago, and the airport's database showed he had booked a ticket to _Dallas_ , of all places.

 

"We have no idea if he knows where Forrest is. It's a slim lead, but it's better than none. Find him and bring him in," M ordered. "Q-Branch already has your tickets and equipment."

 

"Yes ma'am," James said, the title sounding more like  _mum_. They went to Q-Branch grim-faced, ready to hunt down their new prey.

 

 


End file.
